Trail:
The portents were ominous. Thunderous skies the shade of greeny purple bruises. The promise of torrential rain. Wind that whipped the trees into frenzies of car crushing orgiastics (ok, I’ll shut the thesaurus now). The threat of severe damage to life and limb. Who wouldn’t want to scramble through shiggy and risk a roadside drenching by a passing car? Who wouldn’t want to wonder whether their shiny metal whistle or bottle opener would become an instant lightning rod? Really – who wouldn’t want to tempt fate like that and live to tell about it?

Apparently not most of you. Goddamn pussies.

Trail started at Mouth Full and Hypo’s garage at 7:30pm. After giving the hare an…oh…40 minute head start, the pack set off and promptly got lost after one mark. Mouth Full, having had some outside intelligence of where the trail would be laid, proceeded to brazenly cheat and jogged leisurely to the first song check, which was located at a sewer drain in full view of 3 McMansions on Western Ave in Slingerlands. After waiting a total of ten minutes, MF decided the pack were hopelessly lost (3 means on!). Having forgotten her chalk, she considered marking true trail with her bra, but this isn’t strip hashing. She headed to where she thought the shiggy portion of the trail began with the fervent wish that someone would pee on a McMansion lawn.

But no! The hare tricked her. After stumbling through underbrush and prick-her bushes and fording culverts and streams, she realized she hadn’t seen a flour mark in a while and decided to retrace her steps. Bugger!! Bugger bugger bugger! Trail continued past the faux shiggy turn off, going by more McMansions to a roped off dirt road and the beer check. The beer check marks looked like an explosion in a cake factory. While I’m sure everyone appreciated the diligence, Hypo, trust me. This crew knows how to sniff out a beer.

Cries of “On on” echoed down the ravine and the pack (who weren’t suckered by the shiggy trap) soon joined MF at the beer check. Beer check was also a song check and we sang a song about Jesus being a Jew and too cheap to pay hash cash or something to that effect.

Zenning its way from the beer check (perhaps that true trail mark laid by the hare was a clue?), the pack headed off toward the railroad tracks off Font Grove Rd. SB and MF decided to carry the beer check cooler back, and watched the pack recover from falsies. Conversation went something like this, “so what do you think of….oh look, there’s Link. Wave to Link! Hi Link!” and “I hear that…oh there’s Link again. Do you think he’s lost? DON’T GIVE UP LINK!”

Trail was supposed to go up Font Grove Rd, down the abandoned railroad tracks and cut over Kenwood to Grove to Union and the on-in. The pack, being naturally cautious (read: FLAMING PUSSIES) decided to honor the “no trespassing” sign and zenned their way back to the on-in. Also found at the on-in was a note from Prickly, who showed up while everyone was on trail. While this makes her less of a pussy than the rest of the no-showing wankers, it’s still a down-downable offense to show up, leave a note and then LEAVE. Concern soon grew for Link Hardknob who hadn’t turned up. Dirtbag was dispatched in the hashmobile to retrieve him, but this proved unnecessary as he was soon spotted jogging up Union.

Circle:

Dirtbag was asked to dust off his altarboy abusing skills and fill in (heh, I said “fill in”) for the absent Willy as RA

FBI – Mouth Full. It was suggested that this designation be changed to OBI, since she was the only bitch on trail. Link quickly morphed it into “Obi Bitch Kenobi”. This promptly went into the hopper for Mouth Full’s re-naming.

Hashit – we think it was Hypo for the gay bag (see below). Mouth Full wanted to nominate the GIANT FUCKING COCKROACH that Pigf*cker kicked at her during circle (note to self – call landlord about GIANT FUCKING COCKROACH), but she forgot. Pigf*cker wanted to nominate Sperm Bank for killing the GIANT FUCKING COCKROACH, but he forgot too. (I really hope that wasn’t a giant fucking cockroach. Maybe it was a beetle? Can cockroaches really get that big? Will anyone want to drink beer in my garage again knowing that there are giant fucking cock….oh wait. This is the hash I’m talking about. And I digress.)

Down downs/Crimes against the hash – Hypo drank for his…shall we say… imaginative trail marks. And when one bald man drinks…..you know where I’m going with this. Mouth Full drank (numerous times) for digitizing. Hypo drank for buying an incredibly gay bag with which to carry the flour. Piggy drank for blood on trail – he ripped open his old boo boo. Dirtbag, Link and Hypo drank repeatedly under a number of trumped up charges, but really, it was because they’re bald. And when they’re on their knees they look like big shiny penii . Mouth Full drank for screaming “On IN” at the beer check.

Re-naming – Mouth Full’s unimaginative NYCH3-bestowed name was retired, and after a contentious vote-off wherein “Obi Bitch Kenobi” came in a close second (and Piggy was heard to say “dammit Dirtbag, sometimes you wanna give a woman what she wants!”) “Around The Cock Care” became Mouth Full’s new Halve Mein name. Credit goes to Prickly for that!

Circle was closed with a drunken and lively rendition of Swing Low. If you had stumbled into the garage at this point you would have sworn it was an alcoholic spaz convention.